I’m a modern-day, nonconformist, freelancing woman who just can’t be — won’t be — pinned down. That’s why this April 15th, I won’t be answering to anyone, including the IRS.

I can have it all: my ex-boyfriend’s HBO Go password; an apartment I share with six roommates; and all of my pre-taxed income. Literally, all of it, because I won’t be reporting any of it on my Form 1040 this year. Suck it, Department of Treasury.

Income tax is just a number, and I don’t do numbers. Actually, I do do numbers, because one of my many jobs is tutoring SAT Math. But the numbers you’ll find on IT-203 Part-Year Resident Tax Returns? Hell no — I don’t waste my precious time with those fuckboys.

I don’t dwell on toxic ideas, like, “If I don’t pay taxes, isn’t it partially my fault that the MTA breaks down every ten seconds?” That kind of negative thinking just doesn’t have a place in this independent woman’s mind, or in her Social Security withholdings!

I don’t need validation from a man. That includes Howie from TurboTax, who keeps emailing me with desperate subject lines like “It’s Not Too Late!”, “Let’s Go Back to Your State Forms!”, and “Warning: You’re in Danger of Missing the Deadline, Kate”. Oh, now you remember my name? It is too late, Howie. Go find some other woman to manipulate into filing her returns, you bastard.

I’m living my best life: by which I mean, I’m falsifying information on my 1099 forms. Gotta be prepared for when I’m inevitably audited! “The man” expects women to stay in the kitchen, have a piping hot meatloaf ready by 6pm, and not illegally doctor our own tax documents. To him I say, I might make 22 cents under the dollar, but I’m keeping those 78 cents all for myself, buddy.

In my grandmother’s generation, women had to get married, have babies, and jointly file their tax returns with their lousy husbands every year. But it’s 2019! We just had a record-breaking number of women elected to Congress. You better believe I’ll be riding that Blue Wave all the way past the northern border in a car with stolen plates, because I’m a free spirit.

I don’t apologize; I say thank you. And I’ll be thanking the Canadian transit authorities when I arrive at Toronto Pearson Airport with my fake passport, ready to fly to Finland (yas Queen Karin Månsdotter) to start life anew as my alter ego, Gloria Van Empoweredlady. Sorry not sorry!

Girls run the world! Or at least I certainly hope they do, cause I’ll need to tap into worldwide networks of female hackers, social engineers and tax evaders in order to pull off my libertarian dream life. Where my ladies at? Or as they say in Finland, missä naiset ovat? #squadgoals

The future is female. And in the future, when they try to extradite me back to the United States on charges of tax fraud, I’ll tell the Finnish ambassador to go ahead and run my fingerprints, cause she ought to know Gloria Van Empoweredlady’s a confident female with nothing to hide.

Oh, did you assume the ambassador would be a man? Her Excellency Kirsti Kauppi is a strong-minded woman who takes no prisoners…I hope. (Little does she know I burned my fingerprints off years ago — Gloria Van Empoweredlady’s always two steps ahead!)

And to my girl group bombarding me with petty texts, like “OMG, just file your taxes, Kate,” “You know this isn’t feminism, right?” and “Finland? The fuck?”; don’t expect a reply to your defeatist words, girls. When I make my grand entrance across the pond, I’ll be going off the grid for some “me” time. And maybe also to avoid NSA tracking. But mostly, it’s for the “me” time.

I guess my gal pals didn’t hear that Finland was named the happiest country two years in a row. And you know the happiest place on earth would never have personal income taxes, am I right? …wait, am I right?